 "Photo: photo courtesy of Bonfire Films`")
Given the title of the film - Gigantic, A Tale of Two Johns - it's possible that first impressions may deter a few of the more conservative viewers. After all, let's be honest - given our typically dirty minds, what sort of film would you expect from such a name?
For those avant-garde enough to venture into the theater, Gigantic promises and rightly delivers a rare and twisted vision of one of the most weird and wonderful bands to survive the '80s intact - meaning these guys have actually been continually recording and playing music and didn't just reunite because their solo careers flopped. Two decades and nine albums later, the duo is still going strong, promoting its first new album in five years, Mink Car.
For anyone unfamiliar with the Giants, they are a truly alternative band known for their upbeat brand of punk and witty lyrics, somewhat reminiscent of Fractured Fairytales. These are the guys who made death peppy and growing old snappy, and gave ancient history a good beat, thus making it easy to dance to. Hell, they even make divorce enjoyable and worthy of toe-tapping.
They Might Be Giants, formed nearly two decades ago by junior high schoolmates John Flansburgh and John Linnell - hence, two Johns -began their musical adventure playing small clubs in New York's eclectic East Village. Early footage from these rare performances not only showcases the group's humble yet theatrical beginnings, but also pays homage to a loyal fan base, many of whom are still around. The best clip by far is of the band performing "Birdhouse in Your Soul" on the Tonight Show, complete with accompaniment by Doc Severinson and an interview with Johnny Carson.
Filmed by A.J. Schnack, an accomplished music video producer, the documentary employs a pleasantly strange home video-like quality and characteristic campiness, including some odd historical vignettes meant as both tongue-in-cheek ribbing of serious documentaries as well as a lead-in technique to different sections of the film.
Filmed over the course of seven months on the lovely shores of Brooklyn and complete with the NYC skyline in the background and trash floating along the banks of the East River, the film's deadpan lyrical readings by various celebrities - including Janeane Garafolo and Andy Richter - serve up the Giants' ironically comical lyrics á la coffee shop poetry, minus the berets and thick gray sweaters.
Unlike the up-and-down life lessons showcased on Behind the Music, this documentary offers no foray into the Giants' walk on the dark side of fame, but rather invites the viewer on an amusing journey with a band that seems to sidestep celebrity rather than embrace it.
With the exception of their incurable and rampant addiction to coffee, the Johns certainly take the path least traveled by most musicians - choosing to find happiness in making music rather than becoming famous.
Be the first to comment on this article!